Blood Loss
by imaginationoverload97
Summary: Basically, just some hurt!Ethan. There wasn't enough here for my taste. Ethan gets injured on a mission, and it's up to Brandt and Benji to patch him back up.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I do not own Mission Impossible or any of its affiliate characters.**

"Abort! Rendezvous at the safe house at 0400!" Ethan shouted as their pursuers rounded the corner and opened fire.

The team scattered. Therefore, there was no one to notice when Ethan stumbled or to help when he took cover and had to address the blood seeping out of his stomach. Ethan shed his jacket, balled it up, and shoved it under his shirt, pressing it into the wound. Then he was on the move again.

It took another ten minutes or so to lose his pursuers. By that time, Ethan was starting to feel the blood loss. His head was beginning to spin, and he was starting to feel nauseous. He didn't even want to think about what would happen if he threw up with a bullet lodged in his abdomen. Looking down at his watch, Ethan realized he had a couple of hours until rendezvous. In his condition, the safe house was about half an hour away.

Ethan was sorely tempted to go now and crash until his team arrived. But as team leader, he couldn't set that kind of example. What now? Ethan eventually decided to find a reasonably safe place to hide as close to the safe house as possible. That task took about an hour, much longer than it should have. The bullet wound was still bleeding sluggishly, the continued movement keeping the blood from clotting. Ethan was really feeling the blood loss now. It was becoming nearly impossible to concentrate on one single thought for any significant period of time, and the world around him had been spinning lazily for the last half hour nonstop. With his last bit of energy, Ethan set the alarm on this watch to ten minutes before rendezvous before he slipped into a daze, practically oblivious to the world around him.

The first beep snapped Ethan back to the present, but it took him a minute to remember where he was and what he needed to do. Right. Safe house. Blood. Blood? Ethan realized that he was sitting in a small pool of what had to be his blood. His clothes were soaked with it too.

Struggling to his feet, Ethan tried to start moving toward the safe house. The first time he gained his feet, he went straight back down. The second time, he went slower and managed to remain upright, though for how much longer, he didn't know. Leaning heavily on any available structure, Ethan slowly made his way to the safe house, one hand pressing his now-soaked jacket into his wound.

Remembering the knock to get in took several minutes, and coordinating his body to perform it took several more. Once the door opened to reveal both Brandt and Benji, unharmed, Ethan relaxed just slightly. That was all it took to send him crashing into unconsciousness. He didn't even register hitting the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Still don't own anything. Also, forgive me for any medical mistakes. I'm a Computer Science major, not a doctor.**

Brandt had arrived at the safe house at exactly 0400. Using the retinal scanner, he accessed the key and unlocked the door, gun drawn. Once he had ascertained the safe house was actually safe, he sat down on the couch with a clear view of the door. The entire process had taken twenty-eight seconds. Ten seconds later, the secret knock sounded, and Brandt went and let in Benji. Brandt sat back down while Benji leaned against the wall, clearly expecting Ethan to show up in the remaining seven seconds.

Seven seconds passed, but there was no sign of Ethan. Seven minutes passed, still no Ethan. After eight minutes and six seconds, a very quiet, stuttered, almost hesitant, secret knock was heard. After a quick glance at each other, Brandt went to the door while Benji stayed behind him, gun ready.

When the door opened, neither Brandt nor Benji quite knew what to expect, but it certainly wasn't Ethan Hunt, barely on his feet and seemingly soaking wet. However, their initial shock was left in the dust compared to their sheer incomprehension when Ethan collapsed on the ground like a rag doll. Once he hit the ground, their agent training kicked in. In no time, they had Ethan inside and laid out on the couch. Brandt immediately started checking Ethan, looking for a reason why their practically indestructible leader was lying unconscious in their safe house. It didn't take long for him to find the bullet wound. Once he removed the now-ruined jacket, Brandt was hit with a nauseating realization. He stumbled back a few steps, trying to come to terms with this horrible fact.

"What is it?" asked Benji, having noticed his extreme reaction.

"You know how he's soaking?"

"Yeah."

"It's blood."

"All of it?"

"All of it."

"Oh…" Benji breathed.

Brandt forced himself to push his shock and horror to the back of his mind and focus on the situation at hand.

"Benji, hand me the scissors and get the first aid kit ready."

When the scissors were wordlessly handed to him, Brandt went straight to work, cutting off Ethan's shirt. He didn't like how pale Ethan's face was, or how shallow his breaths were.

Once the shirt had been removed, Benji handed him the tweezers without a word needing to be said. Brandt looked at Ethan, but the man seemed to be deeply unconscious, so there was no danger in him waking up before they were done. Brandt grabbed the tweezers, took a deep breath, and began the delicate job of digging out the bullet.

Unfortunately, it was wedged in really deep. It took Brandt about an hour to even find the thing. Once he found it, it took another almost forty-five minutes to actually get it out. In the upwards of two hours spent digging around inside his team leader, Brandt had considered every possible scenario of how this was going to play out. He didn't make chief analyst of the IMF without good cause, after all. He didn't like the results of his analysis. There was an astronomically low chance that Ethan made it out of here alive if he didn't get professional medical help. However, the aborted mission had to be factored in. This was an extremely high-risk operation that had just been blown, by pure chance. If they so much as stuck their noses out of this safe house, it would be tantamount to signing their own death warrants. Doomed if you do, doomed if you don't. Unfortunately, their best chance of staying alive was staying here.

 _*Clink*_

The sound of the bullet dropping into the metal pan provided for that purpose brought Brandt out of his musings. He leaned back, asking Benji, "Can you take it from here?"

Benji nodded, serious for once, and began gathering the supplies for cleaning and closing the wound. Brandt got up and moved over to the single chair that, together with the couch and the coffee table, made up all the furniture in the room. Collapsing into it, he tried to focus on what Benji was doing, but, despite his best efforts, he was asleep in seconds.

He was woken by Benji.

"Sorry to bother you, really I am, but Ethan's lost a lot of blood, and you're his donor on this mission."

Brandt groaned. Stupid IMF rules about each team member having a blood donor on the team. He was Ethan's only match here. He hauled himself to an upright position asking, "How much?"

When the answer was not forthcoming, he looked up at his teammate.

"Benji, how much?"

"As much as you can possible spare," came the reluctant reply.

Brandt blew out the breath he'd been holding.

"Our lives are in your hands."

Benji replied merely with a short nod.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Still don't own them. Also, if you were looking for Jane, she's not in this fic. Just the three guys. Hope you enjoy!**

The first order of business was to move the chair as close as possible to the couch. The transfusion would take a while, and, with the amount of blood necessary, Brandt would be barely conscious at best by the end. Once the furniture moving was complete, Brandt settled back into the chair while Benji prepped everything.

Once it was all set up, Brandt held his breath while the needle was inserted in his arm before consciously relaxing himself.

"Starting the transfusion now," Benji informed him quietly.

Brandt occupied himself by studying Ethan. He hadn't really allowed himself to analyze the situation from a personal viewpoint until now. Put frankly, and Brandt was too tired right now to do anything else, Ethan looked horrible. Now, usually when someone looked horrible, it certainly wasn't good, but it didn't necessarily mean that it was really bad either. People looked worse off than they actually were all the time. However, when Ethan Hunt looked horrible, it was always life-or-death. Brandt had seen Ethan complete missions with a broken leg, a concussion, and going on forty-eight hours without sleep and still deliver the mission report before crashing. To see him passed out, soaked in his own blood, white as a sheet, and barely breathing scared him more than he wanted to admit.

Turning his thoughts away from such a depressing subject, Brandt instead focused on watching the color come back into Ethan's face. At first, it seemed like nothing was happening. Over time though, the color started coming back gradually. After about an hour and a half, Ethan merely looked like he was sleeping. Brandt knew that it was about time for the transfusion to end.

"B-ben'i?" he slurred.

The next thing he knew, Benji had unhooked him from Ethan and was asking him to stand. At this point, Brandt wasn't going to waste any extra energy speaking. He began pushing himself up, but he would never have made it without Benji's help. Together they stumbled to the closest bedroom, where Brandt immediately collapsed on the bed and passed out.

Brandt was again woken by Benji.

"Hey, I know you've been through the ringer, but someone needs to keep an eye on Ethan, and I'm dead on my feet. Think you can take watch for a couple of hours?"

Brandt nodded as he pushed himself up. However, as he reached a sitting position, his vision tunneled down to a tiny pinprick. He felt someone, probably Benji, grab his shoulders, steadying him as his vision came back into focus.

"-asy, easy there," Benji's voice cut through his temporary fog. "Just sit tight for a minute; I'll be right back."

Brandt's vision cleared just in time to see Benji leave the room. Briefly considering following him, Brandt rejected the idea, since he didn't particularly want to found on the floor.

Benji returned a minute later, holding a Gatorade. "Drink this slowly. Then, I'll help you to the living room."

Brandt did as he was told, taking the time to look over his friend.

Benji really did look to be at the end of his rope. There were shadows under his eyes, and his posture screamed exhaustion. Once he was done with his drink, Brandt began, very slowly, to stand up. Benji stayed close by, ready to help, but Brandt figured that it was more likely that they would both go down than that Benji would actually be able to keep him standing. So, Brandt went as slowly as he deemed necessary, making it up onto his own two feet under his own steam. Once they started walking, Brandt allowed a steadying hand on his shoulder. Who it was steadying, he wasn't sure.

They made it to the living room without incident. Once Brandt was back sitting in the same chair, watching Ethan, Benji left with the parting instruction, "Wake me in two hours."

Of course, Brandt had no intention of waking Benji in two hours, or ever, if he could help it. It had been just about thirty-six hours since the rendezvous, so Benji had been up and functioning for at least sixty hours. He deserved to crash for as long as he needed to. So, Brandt settled back to wait.

 **A/N: Sorry not much happened in this chapter. I'm hoping for more from Ethan's point of view next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I added about a paragraph to the end of the last chapter, so go ahead and check that out. It doesn't add much to the story, but it ties these two chapters together a little better.**

 **Still don't own any of these characters that I'm having so much fun with.**

Ethan's world was black. He wasn't sure why this stood out to him, since he couldn't imagine what else the world was supposed to be. However, there was something at the back of his mind telling him that he had forgotten something, something important. Then, sounds started filtering in. There weren't many, but he could hear distant snores as well as someone breathing close by. Without any conscious thought, Ethan had analyzed and dismissed both sounds as non-threatening.

It seemed like he was almost to that important something, just seconds away from grasping it, when the pain slammed into him like a physical force. It punched the air out of his lungs, causing him to buck upwards. This only increased the pain, so Ethan consciously fought to relax his body and focused on regulating his breathing. In a way, the pain had been helpful, for with it had returned all the memories he had been missing. He recalled the mission, and how his disguise had been blown by the unplanned and unexpected arrival of "his" mother. He remembered aborting the mission and being shot. He remembered making it to the safe house and seeing that Brandt and Benji were both alive and unharmed. After that, there was nothing.

Now that he had his breathing under control and the pain pushed to the back of his mind, Ethan took the time to really notice his surroundings. Brandt was sitting beside him, looking highly concerned. Ethan managed a smile, trying to assure his teammate that he was fine. It didn't really seem to work. So, Ethan turned to examining his bullet wound. It was then that he realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt, but that made sense. The white gauze wrapped around his stomach meant that first aid had been administered, and anyone doing first aid would have cut off his shirt very first thing to examine the wound.

All in all, Ethan thought he had figured out almost everything that had happened. The only thing he didn't know was how long he had been out. Bracing himself, Ethan started pushing himself up into a sitting position. At that, Brandt looked like he wanted to object, but he stayed silent.

"So," Ethan started, voice raspy.

"Hold on," Brandt interjected, getting up and going into the kitchen before reappearing with a Gatorade. "Drink this, it'll help your throat."

As Ethan started drinking, he raise an eyebrow. "A Gatorade?"

"Dude, you lost a dangerous amount of blood," Brandt huffed. "I had to top you off."

Ethan nodded slowly as he processed this information. "Thanks."

"No problem. Just, do me a favor and don't try and bleed out again; I'm low now too."

Ethan smiled playfully. "Can't make any promises."

Brandt smiled tiredly back. "Yeah, I know."

"Why don't you lay down, you look beat," Ethan suggested, noticing the agent's haggard appearance.

"Well," Brandt hesitated. "I was supposed to be monitoring you."

"But now I'm awake, and you can see that nothing's wrong," Ethan pushed.

Brandt snorted.

"Well, other than the obvious bullet wound," Ethan amended with a grin.

"Our lives, man," Brandt said, shaking his head. "All right, but you yell if you need anything, and I mean _anything_ ," he cautioned as he got up. "Benji's sleeping in the next room, and I'll be one door down. And whatever you do, Don't. Get. Up. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Ethan replied, even as he dismissed the instruction. Right now he had nowhere to be, but if that changed, he had no problem doing it alone.

"Okay," Brandt said, suspecting Ethan's thought process, but being powerless to do anything about it. Ultimately, Ethan Hunt was going to do whatever it was that Ethan Hunt wanted to do, and nobody would be able to stop him. "Be careful," he called as he left.

"Always," Ethan grinned back.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Still don't own anything.**

Once Ethan heard Brandt's door shut, he allowed himself the brief luxury of relaxing his rigid posture. He hunched forward, breathing shallowly. After all, he did have a fairly deep hole in his abdomen. They were all lucky that the bullet had somehow missed all major organs. After a while, a thought pushed its way through the fog of pain surrounding his mind. _How long have I been out?_ Ethan was pretty sure he'd asked Brandt that question. But, as he pushed away the fog muddling his thought process, he realized that he had never actually voiced the inquiry. Well, now he was going to find out.

Scanning the room, Ethan located a smartphone on the kitchen counter, about two yards away. Target acquired, Ethan began planning his mission. First, he would sit up on the couch and put his feet on the floor. After taking thirty seconds for recovery, he would stand up slowly. Once he was steady on his feet, which would take approximately ten seconds, he would walk over to the counter and retrieve the target. Once the target was secured, he would retrace his steps back to the couch.

Plan in place, Ethan began with the implementation. At first, everything went according to plan. Then, Ethan's typical luck kicked in. On his way to the counter, spots began dancing in his vision. By the time he reached the counter, he had to lean on it to stay standing. Grabbing the phone, Ethan punted on the remainder of his plan and slid down until he was sitting leaned against the cabinets, breathing heavily and blinking away the darkness encroaching upon his vision.

Once he had recovered his composure a bit, Ethan began to study his prize. First off, the date and time showed him that it had been roughly three days since the whole mission went south. The next order of business was to check the local news. As Ethan had suspected, there was no mention of the party gone wrong. However, he was an IMF agent. So, he took the phone and called headquarters. After the usual verification process, it took Ethan two minutes to get the information he needed. The intel they were after originally was being moved in twelve hours to a top security facility.

At this point, Ethan faced a dilemma. Ideally, he and his team would put together a seat of the pants plan and retrieve the info. However, Ethan knew that if he so much as hinted that he was going back out in the field, Brandt and Benji would be on him so fast he wouldn't even see them coming. They would never let him see the light of day ever again. Well then, solo mission it was.

 **A/N: What's Ethan doing now? I'll let you know as soon I do. ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Don't own anything.**

The caravan of armored cars was being prepped in two hours, not too far from this safe house. The protection was contracted out to a private security firm that, fortunately, Ethan had infiltrated before. The uniform was here in the house. The mask machine was set up on the kitchen table, ready to go. This was going to be a walk in the park. However, as Ethan struggled to his feet, he remembered that walking had become a whole lot harder than it had been yesterday. The first thing he did was pull up a picture of the man he was going to become and attach the smartphone to the mask machine and set it going. Now, he had to get to the linen closet for the uniform, which was all the way across the living room and in the hallway at the far end.

Ethan steeled himself and began his journey. His stomach, which was already throbbing in time with his heartbeat, was screaming at him to lie back down. In fact, nothing sounded better to Ethan right now than just going to sleep. But, he just kept putting one faltering step in front of the other. _Halfway there._

Once Ethan reached the opposite end of the living room, he took a minute to lean against the wall and catch his breath. This was never going to work. He needed backup. At the very least, he needed a tech guy behind the scenes. Foregoing the linen closet, Ethan made his way to the room where Brandt had told him Benji was sleeping. He knocked quietly on the door, then pushed it open, revealing a very sleepy agent sitting up in the bed, pointing a gun at him.

Although he knew he would regret it, Ethan let go of the doorframe and slowly raised his hands above his head while saying, "Benji, it's me, Ethan."

Once the gun was lowered, Ethan immediately grabbed the doorframe again, just in time to keep him from falling.

"Ethan? What are you doing up? Are you okay? Where's Brandt?"

"Take it easy. Brandt's fine; I sent him to bed. I'm fine. I need your help, Benji. Our mission isn't over yet. I need you to be my backup."

That woke Benji up.

"Whoa, whoa, hold up, Ethan. You are in no condition to be back in the field."

Ethan sighed, then winced. "Listen, we don't have time for an argument. The company we're infiltrating is very complex and highly secure. There isn't time to debrief another agent in all of the proper protocols. I've infiltrated them before; it has to be me. We have an hour and a half before I have to be on-site. I'm going. Will you help me?"

Benji gestured helplessly, obviously trying to come up with something to refute Ethan's argument, before throwing his hands up in the air. "Fine! Fine. Just… sit down, okay? Sit down, and I'll work out the preparations. Okay?"

"Sounds great," Ethan said and slid down the doorframe and sat, right where he was, closing his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry this has taken so long, guys! Midterms are a thing and I had a bit of writer's block. Luckily, my good friend crossoverking39 stepped and helped me out. So, this chapter is mostly by him. Also, it is significantly longer than the previous chapters, so I guess that kind of makes up for the delay, right? Anyway, enjoy!**

Ethan leaned back in the driver's seat of the van, which was parked two blocks down from the caravan's starting point, eyes closed. Benji was supposed to be in the back, setting up the tech, but he kept sneaking worried glances at his team leader. Ethan really was struggling. It said a lot that he hadn't noticed how long it was taking to set up. Benji mentally went over their plan. Ethan would infiltrate the caravan by neutralizing one of the guards, then taking his place with the mask that had already been prepared. Benji would hack into their computers and make sure that Ethan was placed in the van with the package. Ethan would play his part until Benji gave the signal that he was near the break point. He would then overpower the other guards, secure the package, and leave the caravan. Benji would be waiting at the break point in their getaway car, having ditched the van, and they would make their escape in the confusion. This plan would have been a milk run except for the part where the agent in the field was possibly to definitely in hospital-worthy condition. Despite this, Ethan still believed without a doubt that the greatest danger he was going to experience was when Brandt found out what they had done.

Benji knocked on the wall separating them. "Time's up. Let's get this over with."

"Alright," Ethan confirmed. He was already wearing the guard uniform and armor, so he just slipped on the mask, checking his reflection in the side view mirror to make sure it was straight. He stepped out onto the sidewalk and headed in the direction of the caravan. They had decided on some mid-level pain killers, so he wasn't as badly off as earlier, but they had a limited lifespan. That was the real time-crunch on this mission. Once they wore off, he had to fervently hope that he was out of there, because he would be completely incapacitated.

Suddenly, his earpiece crackled into life. "Testing, one two," Benji's voice came through the earpiece. "Can you hear me?"

Ethan pressed down on the tiny earpiece to activate it and replied, "Loud and clear, Benji."

"Alright, just making sure. Good luck out there Ethan, and try not to strain yourself."

A half smile appeared on Ethan's face, even though Benji couldn't see it. "I'll try, but I think the guards will have other ideas."

Ethan heard a sigh through the earpiece, and then Benji turned it off, probably to prepare for hacking their computers. It was only five more minutes until he arrived at the site. He scanned the area, looking for his target. He soon noticed him by one of the trucks, examining a pile of weapons, including pistols, submachine guns, and Tasers. Each guard got his own pistol and Taser, but the submachine guns were reserved for the drivers.

Ethan slowly crept over to where the man was standing. He sneaked behind the truck, and deftly swiped a Taser from one the stacks. He waited patiently for the man to reach for the pile, and when he finally did, Ethan grabbed his arm and pulled him behind the truck. The man managed to get a slight sound out before Ethan hit him with the Taser. All that armor might have been good against bullets, but it only conducted the electricity. Ethan stashed the unconscious man in a nearby dumpster, then returned to the weapons and continued the man's task of checking them as smoothly as if he was the one who had been doing it this whole time. He also took one pistol and one Taser for himself, completing his disguise. He noted that each Taser only had enough charge for one shot, so he placed the Taser he had just used in the pile of faulty weapons.

Ethan had only been sorting the weapons for a few minutes when the call came to get moving. A man starting walking around with a tablet, giving each person his assignment. He came up to Ethan and without looking up said, "Back of truck four," and continued to the next person. Truck four was the one with the package in it, which meant that Benji had come through. He was probably already packing up the tech and getting ready to ditch the van. Ethan walked over to truck four and took a seat in the middle of the bench so he wouldn't be stuck in a corner. The other guards quickly found seats of their own, and the driver shut the doors behind them. Ethan counted eight guards including himself, four on each bench. He quickly located the package: a box strapped to the back wall. Ethan could see the end of the mission already, but he forced himself to focus on the present.

It was only a few seconds before the truck started up and pulled out onto the road. Ethan still had a while before they got to the break point; they had placed the break point at an intersection near the on-ramp to the interstate for a quick getaway. Since the guards had chosen a rather isolated area to minimize risk, it would probably be twenty to thirty minutes until they got there. The other guards were all sitting so still and straight that they looked like soldiers at attention, which meant they were all completely focused on their job. That was probably how they became such a good private security company, but it wasn't going to help Ethan's cause. He focused on counting the seconds to distract himself until Benji called.

"Alright Ethan, you're now five minutes from the break point. Time to do whatever it is you're going to do." The voice in his ear snapped Ethan out of his concentration. He had already started planning this fight, so he began immediately. He slammed both of his elbows into the guard's faces on either side of him. Then he tossed the stunned guards into the guards opposite him to slow them down a bit. The remaining guard from his bench dodged the flailing guards and ran at Ethan, going for his Taser. Ethan grabbed him by the head, then slammed his knee into the guard's face, effectively stunning him. By this time the other four guards had untangled themselves and were in formation to attack as a group. Two of them had already gotten their pistols out. Ethan jumped at one of them and managed to pull his gun so it was pointing at the other guard as he fired it. The bullet bounced off the wall and hit one of the guards without his gun in the shoulder. He cried out in pain as Ethan wrested the gun from the guard and elbowed him in the face at the same time. Just as he slammed the gun into the injured guard's face, the truck came to a screeching halt, throwing everyone in the truck forward. Apparently the driver's had heard the commotion. As Ethan and the two remaining guards were flung forward, Ethan managed to get the armed guard's face between his shoulder and the back wall.

As the remaining guard shakily stood, Ethan heard the doors being unlocked. He dropped to the floor and concentrated on not moving, despite his body wanting to buck and writhe. That fight had been excruciatingly painful. However, he wasn't the best the IMF had to offer for nothing, and he managed to remain perfectly still. The back doors burst open, and the two drivers were revealed pointing their Tasers at the interior of the truck. When the drivers saw one of their own guards standing among the seven other guards lying on the ground, they naturally assumed he was the assailant. The guard had barely enough time to look up before he was hit with two Taser charges in the chest. While this was happening, Ethan managed to relieve one of the unconscious guards of his Taser. The two drivers entered the back of the truck to make sure the package was safe. As soon as they were both in, Ethan flipped up and hit them both with a Taser charge each, one from his original Taser and one from his newly acquired one. They hit the ground, stunned. Ethan dropped the two now useless Tasers and grabbed the package.

He jumped out of the truck, and quickly realized that they had stopped about a mile away from the break point, and already the other trucks were stopping to find out what was going on. Ethan quickly ducked into a side alley and hid behind a dumpster.


End file.
